New Ulm weekly review. [volume] (New Ulm, Minn.) 1878-1892, 1887-05-25
THE FRESHET.

BY HARRIET PRESCOTT SPOFFORD. ,
From Harper's Bazaar.
We had been engaged, Mark and I,
since we were babies, so to say; that
is, when he was still in knickerbock-
ers, and was just out of bibs, we
had decided that when we grew up and
had a house OF our own, it was to be
our own, his and mine, and there we
were to live together and live alone;
and if the chef Of our diet there was
to be applicants and butter-scotches
that was our own affair.
1t is a thousand pities that it was
about that house that all the rout
happened. For the fact is, l had the
strongest sort OF a will, and so had
Mark; and when it came to the point
it wasn't that house at all that I
wanted.
For, you see, the spot where I lived,
down on the great meadow farms,
was my sole idea ofthe beauty and
pleasantness fthe world. Across the
river, with it's high bank crowned with
feathery and always trembling and
shining birches, the hills rose, far and
faint and purple and vague; but here
there were only the long green levels Of
grass fields lying low and even with the
river that filled and sparkled in reeds
along the edge, and flowed by us broad
and grand on it's way to thesea. And
when the sun shone, and the sky was
blue, and the south wind was softly
blowing, one seemed as near heaven
living there, as it is given one to be on
earth. rs
There were quite number of dwell
ing-houses here, where the corners Of
several of the great river farms con-
verged, so that, although their land
stretched out in different directions,
the buildings clustered together like a
village, and we always came and went
freely in each others houses, and
knew each others concerns, and were
more like one large family than stran-
gers: and loved my neighbors, every
one, and didn't want to go away from
them. And whenit ca me to the ques-
ton Of marrying and going away,
was simply determined that Wouldn't
60 away, but that Mark should come
down to this little Garden of Eden,
where I knew every tint OF the ripe
grass on the meadow, every sparkle
OF the water, every fleece of cloud up
eon the blue of heaven.
@'And why not, Mark?" l urged.
"Here is this immense farm, really
great property, and would you leave
1T to take care of itself, and we go to
Live two miles away on your fathers
place, that bleak, lonesome rock up
in the air, shut in by a pine forest.
like q great fortress-a prison, a real
dungeon"
1t isn't a prison to me, said Mark.
cit is the brightest spot in the world
1t would be il you were in it, Nan"
My real name is Pamela; but that is
the way people always used me.
-stnobody to run in OF an evening,
nobody to talk to over the garden
wall, nobody to borrow OF. nobody to
show your new things to, nobody ii
you're sick. One might as well be
buried alive. I always thought So"
81 should want nobody but you,
Nan, f we were married and that was
our home. It would be simply para
disc"
cit wouldn't be. paradise to me
without any water to see. never
liked the versein the bible about there
being no. more sea. Pretty heaven
that, without any sea to look
at! couldn't live without my
river. I've always had it run
ming by, running up or running down,
coming from somewhere, goingto som e
where, life and motion. | always look
out the first thing in the morning to
see fits still there, and listen for it
at night. And it makes two skies by
night-one above and one below-with
stars down in the underworld and
then by day the color, the changing
light and color, and the pushing OF the
tide, taking you rightinto the myster-
les. Oh. it's stagnat1on without the
river! I'd as lief be dead =
.'And / think just as much OF the
pine woods" he said, with the ever
lasting murmur OF the boughs. And
when a wind begins to blow, long be
fore we feel it down below, the tree
tops know it, and are whispering
about it to one another, like ole
witches brewing a storm. =
s'And there's nothing but a patct
q OF garden there in your father Ole
place, went on, without needing
land here are these long, rich grass
lands. And how in the world are ",